


High Castle

by SearchForAnotherWay



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Forest Sex, Forests, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Succubi & Incubi, Thigh Holsters, Werewolves, Wolves, implied loss of virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SearchForAnotherWay/pseuds/SearchForAnotherWay
Summary: A monster chases you through the forest, but unbeknownst to you, he is the one that cannot escape the girl in the woods.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 121





	High Castle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/gifts).



> This is my late submission for [Jtargaryen18's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/profile) Haunted House challenge. Just a quick simple fic! But heads-up! This fic has some terms and creatures that have not been explained or have yet to appear in the show. A quick wiki search from the games can help explain some of these concepts if the fic doesn't do enough to explain it. Enjoy!

These cobwebs were an invitation to burn aflame. The witcher was itching to call out a sign and let the flames of Igni burn until the silk webs shriveled through the stone halls.

Geralt huffed in the moonlight, arm extending out whilst he side-stepped the bundle of webs.

Triss had sent him to the Skellige Isles on another contract. Villagers rumored sightings of an ulfhedinn within the forest, and Geralt had already found bodies of the dead leading to the abandoned castle in the outskirts of the main island.

The castle must have stood once long ago. It wouldn’t be far of a thought to guess that a plague had wiped out everyone long ago, leaving the stone walls to sit and ripen to the beasts of the earth.

In this case, let those beasts be a blood-thirsty werewolf and its loyal hounds.

And now, on the night of the full moon, it was only a matter of time before Geralt had to slay the beast, elsewise the ulfhedinn howls for its wolves to invade the castle.

“Witcher?”

His hand reached for his silver sword faster than the air could keep pace, spinning swift behind him, halting his blade still and wisps away from the neck of the woman.

Not human.

Her horns curled over her head, between the long braids of her hair as she peaked out from the corner, clutching the wall with a smug of amusement. The sword at her throat left her unfazed.

“Geralt of Rivia?” She confirmed her suspicions. “What a surprise. I never would have expected to be in the presence of your company.”

Geralt merely eyed her for a moment before lowering his sword, turning back round to continue his search through the halls.

“Leave. I have no business with you, succubus.”

The woman stepped away from the wall, revealing her soft skin that reached down just before her knees, her cloven hooves tapping against the stone bricks. Her long braids had done little to hide her breasts, the demon wearing nothing more than a cloth wrapped over her hips.

“After that vicious werewolf then?”

Geralt halted, craning his neck to the side.

The succubus smiled then, stepping closer to the man until her open palms and breasts pressed against his back, her tail wagging slowly behind her.

“The ulfhedinn is with me actually. A mutual understanding really.” She tilted her neck high, lips touching his hair, “I lure the unfortunate villagers here and after I have my fun with them, I leave them for him to devour.”

The witcher turned his head forward once more. “So you lured me here for you and the monster then.” Geralt shoved himself away, listening to the seductive creature chuckle at his avoidance.

He was all too aware of what she was capable of: what she was trying to do.

“But I did not lure you here, and you would know that because you haven’t seen me in your dreams.”

They had reached a wide set of stairs, leading up to a grand throne room. The high windows shattered, allowing the full glow of the moon to shine down the path, though it did little to show what awaited behind every dark corner, the sky-reaching ceilings pitch black. Pillars lined Geralt at each side, worn down but still sturdy and strong.

The scent of blood finally reached his nose.

Geralt gripped his sword tighter, a hand held ahead of him ready to cast a sign when the werewolf strikes.

“You haven’t been sleeping though, have you witcher?” The nameless succubus clopped behind, finally reaching the top of the stairs, pulling her long hair back behind her shoulders.

Her words went past Geralt, the man stepping further into the center of the room. The wolf was here for sure, hiding in the dips of darkness, though Geralt could not pin-point where.

“No.” A different voice: a voice of someone familiar. “You’ve been plagued by another woman. One who has taken sleepless nights away from you.”

He swung his sword behind him, though the succubus dodged him with ease before she stood up, her face morphed, long braids no more but short brown curls, her sharp nose now button round.

“Renfi,” he seethed her name through his teeth.

“No, no, not her,” the demon laughed, scratching her chin with her pointed nail as she stepped closer, “but a woman you haven’t met yet. Trying to figure out how this lass said it… woman in the forest was it?” Her tail twirled behind her, and the sudden growl echoed through the vast stone walls.

Geralt flicked his vision to the ceiling above, the room suddenly encased with darkness as clouds heavy and thick covered the full moon’s glow. He made quick work to grab a vial of Cat from the holster wrapped over his leg before ripping the cork open with his teeth and spitting it out, leaving the succubus to watch on as he drank down the contents in the small bottle.

“I’ve charmed a pretty little morsel to come to the tower tonight,” Renfi’s voice sang through the creature, “I’m sure the poor thing has already lost herself in the castle.”

The witcher tsked his tongue.

Fuck.

The succubus heeded Geralt no warning as she stepped closer to him, the witcher busying himself with finding the ulfhedinn.

His eyes had become void in black, dark veins running through his pale face as he peered through the darkness. He could see the werewolf now, perched high around one of the pillars, growling and steady.

“Tell your dog to surrender and I won’t kill you.”

Renfi laughed at the witcher. “You know I can’t do that Geralt. The werewolf does what he so chooses.” She had placed a hand over his shoulder, but he pulled away. She hummed before she sighed. “Come now Geralt, put that sword away. Enjoy the night!” The demon slithered closer to him; the eyes of Geralt and Renfi locked in battle.

“I’ve never bedded a witcher before. You have no idea how much it pleases me to find a man that can match my endurance. I’ve saved the late king’s chambers for a moment like this,” she snickered, lashes fluttering to hold his attention, “why don’t we find our sweet maiden in the castle and let our desires take over tonight.”

“Last warning,” Geralt growled through his teeth, “leave or I won’t hold back on you.”

Renfi scowled, stepping away slowly from the armed monster killer. “Or should I leave our damsel to the sole mercy of the blood-hungry beast?”

Geralt had suddenly remembered, but not in time.

A claw swung at him from behind, the witcher flung to the other end of the throne room, body tumbling before skidding on his back.

He stood up quick on his feet back into his fighting stance. The werewolf stood tall but hunched on its hindlegs, long claws outstretched and ready to pounce. Renfi smiled, stroking the animal’s fur.

“You’ve disappointed me Geralt. I wish you a farewell.”

The beast launched away from her to the witcher, the speed catching the succubus’ brunette hairs through the air.

Motioning his hand high, Geralt casted a gust of wind, strong and fierce until the ulfhedinn fell back against the pillar. With a single step forward, the witcher summoned the flames of Igni without a second to hesitate, blasting it thoroughly against the pillar, letting the room glow in its golden hue.

He ceased the flame, coming back to the light of the moon, as if returning to the world. The pillar was left charred and burnt, but the werewolf was not there with it. Geralt shifted his body back, turning to his flanks.

“Fuck—”

“Oh, and witcher,” Renfi’s voice called to him once more, and he turned to the succubus, standing where he had last seen her. She smirked, though innocent, only a mask for the poison that she would give in the next following moments.

“ _T̶̬͈̱͈̱̃͊̒͛̽͛̚ḩ̴̐̉̈́͝ȩ̷͉͈͌̌͂͑ ̴̗͖̳͐̃͌͠g̸̛̰͖̝͗̊͛ḯ̷̈̑ͅr̶̛̹̄̈́l̷͔̳͎̺̉͛͜͠ͅ ̶̧̙͔̈̔̋͑̐̑͜i̸͉̯̙̘͐ņ̴̩̫͔͌ ̶̪͐̽̀t̸̨̤͈̃h̷̡͙̜̹̦̗͌̈̽̏͘͝ḙ̶͇̗̮̞͇̳̀̃͋͑͛͋͝ ̴͖́̌͜͜͠w̷̢̟̼̱͙͍̑̓́̓̈͛͝o̴̧͕͇͙̣͘͜o̶̢̘̻̣̽ḋ̷̼̝̳̼̻̩́̅s̷̼̄ ̵̧̧̣͇͓̗͊̄̂̀͝w̸̛̥͎͈̾̇͘͠i̴̱͈͙͑͑̂͝͠l̶͖͍̊̕͝ļ̷̛̳̗͚͆͆̃͠ ̴̥̜̥̤̲͇͍̓̂̕b̸̯̟̜̪̈́͌̏̓̈̅ͅḙ̸̢̞̹̩̻̇͘ ̵̢̤̳͋̈́́͗͛̈́w̸͎͛̐͋͝į̸̛̥̺͖̹̗t̷̛̰̙͙̃̂̆͆̎̌ḧ̸̛͉͚́̇̂͝ ̵̢̛̣̜̮̪̓̌͋̃̓͘ẏ̸̢͈̝̞͇͇̂̊̈̓o̷̧̢͚̣̻̜̓̇̃̔̐ͅų̶̨͕̬̜̥̬͂̅̔̍͝ ̷̞̲̀̅ͅa̸͇̙̮̪͍̱̗̎͝l̴͎̻̂̊̔̽̈ŵ̵̦̳͇̭̆͊͌̋̌̚ă̷͙̭̖̞͘ŷ̴̪̳̫̐͊̕ṡ̵̡̰͇͓̩͑̆̂̂̏ .”_

Suddenly the deep, screeching howl reverberated through the old castle, the stone walls trembling in fright when more distant wails followed suit.

Shit. The bastard was finally calling to the wolves.

His eyes grew wide.

The monster was after the idiot lured to the castle...

The witcher didn’t think, racing out of the throne room.

Geralt cursed under his breath. He should have killed that demon the moment she stumbled upon him. And now the castle was ambushed with wolves looking for the woman charmed to come here.

A wolf, silver and large, jumped out from the adjacent hall. Though it had not so much as scratched Geralt before the witcher pierced his sword through the animal. The whines were momentary as Geralt let the weight of the beast remove itself from his sword.

He resumed speed then, listening to a number more wolves barking behind him. Clutching his sword and giving a quick sign, Geralt allowed the telekinetic wave of Aard to knock the wolves back.

Though stopping those wolves only did little to none when the castle itself was a maze. But Geralt finally could pick up the scent on his nose. The faint aroma of the woman’s scent.

Your scent.

* * *

You screamed when the beast jumped forward, nearly caught in its claws before you passed by it, running with every ounce of your depleting strength.

Why did you ever take the word of the strange, beautiful woman? Your mother had always called you an idiot for being so naïve. Though you don’t remember when the strange woman approached you. She had told you of a ‘haunting’ home that the other village folk would go to for celebration. A way to raise money for the poor orphans living in the orphanage.

There was to be lords and knights dressed in costumes to frighten all those who came to pay with their coin. It seemed exciting to you, but it only occurred to you now that no one else in the village mentioned this nightly scare event.

Yet you didn’t bother to think anything about it when the woman’s directions led you to an old crumbling castle instead of the manor she mentioned, or when no one else had come to the building, and not even when you had lost yourself stories high with not a person in sight. Only the creaks and groans of that which hid in the shadows.

But now, it seemed more clear than ever as you ran for your dear life within the castle, trying to escape a vicious werewolf nearly twice your size, that the woman had given your life to the devil.

There was no doubt that you would die if you didn’t escape tonight.

The mucky puddles splashed at your footfall while you turned back every so often.

The ulfhedinn was gone, as though it never existed, but you knew that was just the sense of comfort the monster wanted you to believe you had—safe from his clutches only to be tricked and surprised as the beast ate you whole.

If only you could think! How did you get up here! Remember!!!

You could have sworn you saw some spiral stairs heading downwards before the werewolf attacked you. It was no use heading back that way now, but you were confident that if you just reached the other side of the tower, there would be another set waiting for your escape.

The sudden hard force out of nowhere collided into your shoulder and you lost your footwork before regaining your posture.

“Ahhh!” Your eyes blew wide, fingers jumping to your mouth.

He stood, caked in blood, with bleeding cuts across his face. White hair rubbed thoroughly with dirt and cobwebs. The golden orbs of his eyes burning into your soul, as though branding your skin with a single word.

Death.

The Butcher of Blaviken had come here waiting to slay you.

When you had gone to run, the witcher clasped his hand over your arm. Your sole instinct was to shriek.

“Don’t run. The ulfhedinn is searching for you—”

“Let me go!” You yanked yourself out of his grip.

“Damn it I’m trying to save you!” Geralt reached out for you again, but when he missed your wrist from his grasp, he stepped forward, pinching his fingers together.

Your head was hit with iron, or so it felt. You stilled immediately, initially cowering, now straightening yourself as you stared into the witcher’s glowing eyes. The glittering blue light at the end of his fingers had gone unnoticed.

He stepped closer.

“I need you to calm down.”

You nodded slowly, eyes dull as you held your unbreakable gaze to him.

It was nearly similar to Renfi’s final gaze after Geralt had slit her throat, eyes somehow wide with life even when the person had lost all their soul.

_Ỹ̷̛͔̃̈̏͠o̸̫͙̝̲̭̗̽̃͗́͆̎̓u̵̢̱̘̪̞͛̔̑̚ ̴̖̮̖̤͋̎̈͗͝w̸͙̭̜̥̤̅̔̐̕ͅī̸͈̊͆̾͆̌̕l̷͖̘͉̭̮͍͋̓͒̕͝͝͠l̵̨͓͍̩͕̈́́̕ ̵͚̣͓̝̱̬̋͜t̴̹͈̼͕̥̾̎r̴̪͇͋͌̏ỵ̵̺̱͔̾̽͂͛͘ ̶̧̥̘̗͔̟̏̏t̷̨̬͚̫͓̫̄̏͋ơ̵̫͈͓̰̻̹̜ ̷̧̲̱͕̱̟͆͋̏̀̈́͘͝ȏ̶̧͉̝͆̿̅̒̑ͅu̶͍̙͇̮̖̜͆̒̓͘̕͝t̵̖̟̦̱͋̀͐͐͜͠ͅr̷̢̛͎̗̈̿͋͌͝ŭ̷͚̪̜͈̦͊̓̋͂n̷̢̞̥͇̖͈͑̑͛ ̵̭̯͕̑t̵͙̍h̶̢̡̞͙̺͎͉̓͂̈́̈́͛̇͋e̵̢̻̰̫͚͍̯̐͗ ̷̪̼͆̏͘g̵̠̀i̷͎̩͐̅͋̍r̸̛̜͚̠̣̃̏̾̎͝l̵̜̃͊͑͊̉͠ ̵̡͖̖̼̖̃̔̈́̆̕͝ḭ̵̣̫̗̔̓͝n̸̺̜̠̤̗̄̈́̿̓̈́͘ ̷̻̰̙͠͝ţ̷̞̪̪͓̉̑̚͜͝ḫ̸͉̟̯͇̕e̴̞̟̫̺̜̤͆̃̐̔ ̷̡͐ẅ̷̛̻̱̼̻̑͊͊̕ơ̷̡͕̫̦̞̽͒̚͜o̶̥̙͖͋̈́͘d̷̢͓̟͍̙̃̇͘͜š̵͇͔̐̽̂̌̀͝,̷̢̺͕̎̽͊͗͌ͅ ̶̝̫̹̓̍͘ͅb̷̨͉̳̪̖̪̝̓ǘ̷̯̩̠̼̍̿t̴͍̮͓͓̤̔͒̓̐̚̚ ̵̨̡̣̼͇̟̉͋y̷̨̢̢̠̦͙̔͒̓̈́̽͜͠͝ỏ̴̞̱̭̬̗̾̉̓͒̈́̚ư̷̡̨̗̙̟̠̽͆͐̽͘ ̸̡̞̦͛͛̑c̵̝̭̥͌̀͛̚a̶̟͈͋̉̿͌̍n̶͕̥͇̽̈́͋̀n̴̨͙̗̜̺͈̣̊͛̈o̷̙̰͍̒̋͒̐͗͜͝t̵̲͔̗̞̻̫̰͒͋̅̒̔ ._

Geralt shook the voices out of his head.

Focus.

His fingers remained held together. Should he break them several seconds before the compulsion took place, you would break from the charm.

“Stay close to me. Don’t go out of my sight.”

Geralt watched you nod again until a sudden snarl reached behind his ears. He couldn’t turn fast enough before the werewolf struck him, the witcher skidding through the hall.

You screamed instantly, scrambling in the opposite direction of the monsters.

“No!” Geralt lifted himself to his elbows, but the seething teeth of the beast nearly dug into his throat, the witcher forced to hold the monster back while he watched you escape.

Damn it.

He kicked the werewolf over and off, turning onto his arms and knees as he crawled over to his silver sword, grasping hard at the hilt.

The ulfhedinn lunged again, and the witcher lit the tower aflame.

* * *

You had reached the entrance of the castle once again, near ready to collapse. You didn’t blame yourself for taking a moment to rest against the closest stone you could find. A refuge to your sore bones and burning legs.

Maybe your mother was right. You were a complete fool, blind to the dangers in a world so full of them.

It was a miracle by the gods that you made it out at all. A prayer would go to them no doubt once you reached home. Though it frightened you to think what else you would encounter if you continued to roam in the night now.

You glanced over to the eerie forest, contemplating whether it was worth the risk. You had dodged the few wolves you found in the castle, not to downplay the encounter you had with the ulfhedinn and the witcher.

The Butcher of Blaviken to be clear. The creature who had no issue gruesomely forcing his sword within the heads and hearts of the village men, going farther and disconnecting heads and limbs from their bodies, leaving pools of blood and corpses to the wailing women and children see; to let them all know that the fearful stories their parents once told them were all in truth.

Crossing paths with a witcher would only end in your death.

It was no use camping here. Surely the forest would be a safer bet.

The gods had suddenly dawned on laughing at you from the heaven skies when the rustling noise caught your other ear before you turned, seeing the witcher once more. His hair unhinged with soot marring his pale face, the witcher heaved a single breath before sheathing his longsword behind him.

No…

He took one step forward, eyes of gold unwilling to break from yours.

No!

You rushed into the woods, your body taking control of you as you plunged away from the stone you rested on.

“Wait!”

His feet stamped behind you, instantaneous and powerful, the distance between you and him just seconds.

You could only compare his speed to the speed of the blood rushing into your heart, overwhelming the organ until it nearly burst open. No doubt your heart would kill you before the witcher ever had his chance to cut you with his blade.

The pitch-dark forests rose to the sky, though the moon held higher, illuminating the path as you jumped over roots and kept pace. Begging your body was all you could do—exerting all the energy you could in this final race. It was now or never. Slow down for just a moment and that’ll be the end of the life you know.

You were racing with death.

Geralt pushed faster, his lips pressed firm as his soles dug deep into the earth with every step.

But why? Why was the witcher so inclined to chase after you? To reach you?

He had killed the ulfehinn—so be done with it. This woman didn’t mean anything to his contract, so why was he after her? Geralt had killed monsters and men before without so much as a second glance to the cowards running away from him even though he had saved them moments ago.

But you…

What need carried him to reach you.

_Ȳ̷͜o̴͙̽ü̴̞ ̴̉͜w̴̫̿ḯ̸͓ļ̴l̷̡̽ ̶̛̭t̷̥̑ṛ̴y̴̬͌ ̷͙̌ṭ̴͛o̵͙̓ ̸̢͝o̴͖͂u̷͕͆t̵̖͘r̷̰̂ȗ̶̘n̸̯̏ ̷̘t̶̲̏h̴͈̋ě̴̦ ̵͔͐g̶̺̏ḭ̸̂ř̶̜l̵͖̐ ̴͎͌i̵̛̹n̴̕ͅ ̶̹̈́t̸̢̉h̸̰̕e̴̪̓ ̶̢̋w̴̛̟o̴̺͛o̷̙͠d̴̡͐s̴̠̆,̵̪̓ ̵̹͠b̸̨̃u̷̧͌ț̴̏ ̷͍̒y̵͛ͅo̶̺̅ụ̴̔ ̸͙̾ç̵̅a̸̠͒ń̴̫n̶̟̑ő̵͕t̵̹͒ ._

Geralt cursed under his breath.

Destiny can fuck off.

This wasn’t _that_ , he denied it. But the echoing voices continued to reach closer and closer to him, constantly a repeating mantra, as if in sync with every step that you took further and further away from him.

_Y̵͙̕ö̵͙́ȕ̵͈ ̸͖̿w̷͇̓i̷̪̓l̷͉͗l̸̰̚ ̶͙͗t̷̳̾r̷̪͐y̷̗͋ ̶̥͝t̸͓̆ö̴́ͅ ̶̟̽ǫ̸͘ú̴ͅt̶̞̏r̸͈̄ȕ̶̗n̷̙̚ ̶̳͘t̷̟̂h̷͇e̶̦͠ ̵̣̕g̸̹̋i̴̳̾r̵̗͐l̵͚͆ ̸̱̍î̴̯ṇ̸̈ ̶͇̽t̸̠͑h̵͙͘ě̸̢ ̸̣͝w̷̨͒ö̷͓o̸͍̊d̷̞̒s̶̰̆,̵͕̀ ̶̣̐b̴̺͌u̴̝̽t̶̜̕ ̵̳̔y̷̘̓o̷͂͜ŭ̸̳ ̵̙͌c̵̞̚a̵̪͌n̴̖̅n̸͖̾o̶͎͐t̶͙̚ ._

_T̶h̷e̸ ̷g̷i̶r̵l̸ ̵i̶n̸ ̵t̷h̴e̷ ̵w̵o̴o̵d̸s̸ ̸w̵i̸l̵l̸ ̴b̷e̸ ̸w̸i̴t̵h̴ ̷y̶o̸u̷ ̴a̴l̸w̶a̸y̸s̶ ._

_She is your destiny._

“Argh!” The monster’s screams reached your ears, a roar more frightening than all the howls that have echoed tonight.

His hand shot up with no thought, sending a forceful blast behind you watching as you collapsed hard over the ground. You cried out, panic swallowing you whilst you scrambled to stand. Though there wasn’t enough time as the witcher slowed to a stop once he finally reached you, seeing you with clear open eyes.

You had barely got on your knees when you froze silently in place.

Geralt stepped closer behind you, his warmth radiating within the cool night breeze, the blue glow held in his pinched fingers once more. He hesitated for a while, unsure if he was ready to accept what would come.

“Stand up,” he whispered and watched you do so sluggishly.

You turned to the witcher, your soft glittering eyes sparkling in the moonlight while you finally connected gazes with him. The quietness between you both was not something unnoticed, and somehow it itched at Geralt’s skin.

He knew nothing about you; not even in the time that he met you did the two of you exchange more than two sentences between each other. Two beings, polar opposites of each other. You, a simple human with no powers, no magic—no reason to be here at all. And him, a hunter—a frightful being that held strength and abilities comparable to no man seeking to kill monsters for coin in the moments he didn’t think himself a monster, with no reason to consider you.

But the noises in his head were clear, singing to him as he inched closer to you.

_You will try to outrun the girl in the woods, but you cannot._

His eyes flickered down to your lips more than once. His fingers trembling once he released his sign, his compulsion casted.

_The girl in the woods will be with you always._

The slight part of your soft lips, your slow, subtle breaths reached his own whilst your drunk eyes pulled him in, closer and closer until—

_She is your destiny._

Geralt lifted his chin, all he needed to do to finally let his lips connect to yours, the gentle pressure as he captured your bottom lip, sucking it tenderly as a hand reached up to hold your cheek.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he looked to you, gauging your reaction as if you could give him one. Your eyes were blank while you looked onto him, but Geralt could feel your rapid beating heart, though he knew it no longer was from the endurance of the chase. That long since passed.

The witcher waited for the voices that haunted him to continue their songs.

But it was silent…

Nothing…

His hands reached for your hair, holding you still as he pressed his forehead firmly against yours, breathing you in, huffing and shaking to calm himself, so sure that you would vanish within the moment.

He could smell your fear, your immediate panic—all the terrors gained as a child dragged back up to the surface of the woman before him. He could feel your desire to drown at the bottom of the sea before standing here with him. He wouldn’t blame you for it.

But he wouldn’t let you go.

You, the sole being that had silenced the echoing calls he had battled with for so long.

How long had it been since he had slept—been given a moment of calm since those voices plagued him, a moment without interruption, fighting a force of unbeknownst power.

And now he found you, without realizing what he was searching for.

He _couldn’t_ let you go.

The second kiss was anything but the first, the witcher smearing his desperation all over you. His mouth moved roughly, domineering your lips and skin.

“Fuck all,” he panted, suddenly holding your waist before slamming you onto a tree trunk. His hands lowered down before gripping your thighs and lifting you up to his height.

You gasped through glossy eyes when the witcher pressed himself once again to you while leather trousers grinded up against your own, a thin coat of sweat over your inner thighs in the airtight space of your hot core and his pulsing hard on.

Geralt listened to your whimpering sounds while his tongue skimmed your jaw, sucking your skin and giving small nibbles and bites.

“Follow my lead.” He huffed before pressing his forehead to the side of your head, your neck turned and displayed for him to take. “Enjoy this. Let me hear everything you feel.”

The witcher watched you nod with a heavy head, compelled by his words like a temple priest to their god. Anyone that came across the two of you would have thought you were coming back out after drinking a barrel of ale, all sense out the window if you were desperate enough to wrap your legs around the Butcher of Blaviken like a wanton village whore behind the stables.

No person with any sane sense of judgement would even think about offering themselves to a witcher.

Geralt placed your hands over his shoulders and you wrapped your arms behind his head, heeding to his implied command, holding him across his broad shoulders while he continued to grind his hips against you. The soft delicate mutters under your breath a melody to his ears, rising with every stroke of his hips against yours.

Your voice could have been mistaken for any other woman’s. Geralt had slept with enough of them to have their voices mixing together now until you couldn’t tell one from another—nothing special about it… and yet…

He wanted to hear more.

The witcher turned you both away from the tree though you didn’t seem to realize in your dazed state, only continuing to tease his cock as you rubbed yourself over him again and again.

Your head was full of air, what was left of your mind was crumbling sand molded to the man’s hands—to please the witcher who commanded you.

And he wanted you. The man’s need, his desire: Geralt felt no shame letting you know how desperately he needed to wrap you tightly over his cock, riding him steady while he bends you back and feels every part of you clinging to his shaft.

He kneeled to the ground fast and hard. You nearly fell from his grasp in the sudden bounce before he settled himself, laying his back against the tree bark before adjusting you to his lap.

The tug of your blouse alerted you to his fingers, and you followed mechanically, pulling your top over your head. Geralt rushed to you before you even finished removing your shirt from your arms, hands sliding to your back before pulling you closer, his lips lunging to your breast bone, pressing himself shamelessly to your bosom.

You mewled, body relishing in his hot flesh pressed to yours, his tongue running up the valley of your breasts until his teeth could no longer resist and bit the soft skin of your chest.

More… He wanted more.

Geralt didn’t mind when your hands reached between you, fumbling to latch your fingers to your pants while you wiggled them down.

You had to pleasure Geralt—please him as much as you could.

Give him everything he wanted.

“Pleasure yourself,” he corrected you between your breasts, his soft breaths branding your skin.

You unstraddled yourself to pull your pants off. Though you must have taken too long; before you knew it, the witcher was tearing the material away, tossing it mindlessly from sight. His hands grabbed your thigh immediately after, lifting a single leg until you stood between his left thigh.

He dug his nails into your hips, a high-pitched gasp flowing out of your mouth, urging Geralt to continue on, the subtle drag back and forth heating your core.

You responded to his command, fingers snaking up to hold his neck and offering your mouth for another kiss. Tongues danced passionately while you rubbed yourself against the witcher’s leather trousers. Geralt felt the moans you passed to him between your locked mouths while you grinded your hips, letting the friction and pressure build against your bundle of nerves. The wet trail of arousal smeared across his thigh and yours, your parted labia elated and hot with attention.

“Mmph,” you whined into the kiss, the sensations of his palms melting you at your sides, his thumbs swiping over your waist. It was warm. Burning. The heat of his desire running down your skin like rainfall, evaporating into heavy fumes that filled your head.

Geralt pulled away forcefully, giving himself a moment of air, though he was wrought with need to kiss you again and suffocate you in his arms. No doubt you sensed his want as well, your faded eyes staring down at his lips while you grounded your hips against the hard muscles of his thigh, your legs squeezing around him while you rubbed yourself in slow, firm circles.

If only you could see yourself now, your pussy and thighs coated with your slick nectar, leaving shining trails under the full moon, the shallow songs of moans parting your lips. It was a view to behold; a young innocent woman with nowhere to turn to but the witcher before her, pressed so keenly to him.

But destiny did not call you as some nameless woman. No.

You were his. His to give a thousand names. But even then, nothing would be enough to describe what you were to him… The all-powerful force you had become. The single thought that ate at his mind through many moons, yet the same enchantress that he could not live without.

His soulmate.

Geralt hissed when a hand skimmed over to his groin, the subtle pressure of your fingers over his pulsing member magic of a spellcaster whispering sweet, soft mewls before him.

And the witcher could not hold back for another second.

His deep growl passed your head, a hand swiping yours away before Geralt unbuttoned his trousers. Though you didn’t mind, latching onto his shoulders while you thrusted your hips viciously, near ready to become undone in your silent need to ride his cock.

A short moment of struggle before his stiff member came free from its prison, Geralt stroking himself painfully, his aching shaft begging to be wrapped in your hot core. To fill you up and stretch out your soaking walls until he had you overwhelmed and crying above him.

Geralt turned, his nose brushing against yours while beheld by your gaze, blank yet somehow so focused as you continued rubbing yourself back and forth. The heat you ignited against his thigh burning him.

“Come here.”

He grasped your thigh, the pads of his fingers skimming over your arousal before hoisting you up. A quiet gasp caught you before the witcher lined the tip of his cock to your weeping entrance.

He intended to fuck you senselessly, all be damned if you looked like a senseless slut. Geralt didn’t care for it in the moment, the primal need for you to sedate his lust too urgent.

But fate turned on the witcher once again, a sudden cry shaking the trees of their crows as you came to, slammed to the hilt over his throbbing phallus.

Your eyes blew wide whilst Geralt glanced to you, and you screamed once again, the burning sting running along the walls of your sex.

“No! N—aahhh!” You pounded his chest, catching one glimpse too many of your naked body and the cock stuffed between your legs.

Shit.

Massive arms swooped around you, closing in until the monster had you strapped to his chest. Shrill screams met his ears while you attempted to pull yourself off his cock.

It was useless.

“Shhh.” His hand reassuringly squeezed your shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt for long. Breathe… Relax...”

You jerked again and again in his hold, but the slow pull of losing yourself to the witcher’s hushes called to you. The sudden force again filling your head, drowning you with mindless thoughts until you fell silent, rubbing your cheek over his dusty shirt, indulging in the soft muscles that rippled underneath.

Geralt released Axii from behind you, letting its full effects charm you back into your trance. He lowered his arms to your waist, resting his chin and sighing above your head as you made way, casually rubbing your hips over his phallus, his member stroking your walls and shaking mewls out from your chest.

Destiny brought you to him after a lifetime, and now that you were with him, he would make sure that you realized it too.

He couldn’t compel you forever.

You would learn to accept it.

Geralt kissed your head, catching your attention as you gazed up at him, moaning when the witcher lifted you off of his cock before slowly pulling you back in. You caught him biting his lip when your wet walls fluttered around his cock.

But for now… Fuck—you were in for it.


End file.
